Steal My Heart
by NightingaleLost
Summary: It was a challenge to me, I admit. To prove Clyde wrong and win just a little more pride for myself. Well, that was only at first. Things changed in ways I couldn't even imagine and now looking back, I can't believe I didn't think I could fall for him.
1. Definition of the Perfect Moment

Chapter One  
Definition of the Perfect Moment

* * *

It all started innocently enough. But then again, what doesn't? If I knew how this day was going to end up, maybe I never would have brought it up. Maybe I would have just ignored it and pretended that everything was okay. But I didn't. I wanted to be a good friend, and this is what happened.

It all started with a sigh...

Clyde and I sat on a park bench after school; me reading a book, him playing Grand Theft Auto on his PSP, when he sighed. Normally, I would ignore this and think he'd been arrested by the cops or killed again, but this particular sigh was the last of fifteen straight in three minutes – I started counting them after a while- and there's no way he could have lost the game that many times.

I closed my book, which had been boring anyway, and turned to him. "Okay, what is it?"

He didn't look at me, still pressing buttons on the small console. "What?"

"You know what I'm talking about." I faced him fully, one leg folded on the bench. "What's with all the sighs?"

Clyde turned off his game, not bothering to save it; stowing it in his pockets, he shoved his hands in there too, face sullen. His tone matched it perfectly. "I hear Red hooked up with Kevin."

"You heard, or you know?" I asked him, completely aware of the difference between rumors and the truth.

"I _know_." He said grudgingly. "I heard Red talking about it at lunch today."

"Okay, so what?"

"What d'ya mean, so what?" Clyde turned to me, whining. "You know I wanted to ask her out!"

I rolled my eyes, picking up my book to try and find my page again. "Then you should have just asked her. Why'd you wait so long?"

"I was waiting for the perfect moment." He muttered.

"Jesus, not this again." I sighed.

Clyde was outraged. "Come on, there _is_ such a thing as a perfect moment!"

"No there isn't. That's just romantic crap."

"You're just saying that 'cuz you're rich and popular and you can get any girl you wanted with a phone call." He prodded me ruefully. "You've been deprived of any sentimental ideas, my friend. Your money has _sucked_ it out of you."

"Oh, shut up." I chuckled. "I don't have time for that kind of mushy crap." I found my page, scanning down it for where I'd left off. "Besides, Kevin's a geek and Red's a shopaholic. I give them a week. Then you can ask her out."

Clyde sighed. "Nah, the urge is gone now. I don't want Kevin's sloppy seconds."

I laughed. "Well then, anybody _else_ you're waiting for the perfect moment for?"

"Eh." He shrugged. "I dunno. I mean, there's this guy I've kinda had my eye on, but I don't think it's gonna go anywhere."

I didn't even blink at what some people might have called a potentially awkward revelation. Clyde had already told me he was 'bi-curious' a couple of years back; his genius idea as an excuse if I ever saw him a guy. Still though, it was the first time I'd heard him bring up an actual person of the male gender as an object of affection, but I shrugged it off. I wasn't a homophobe or anything.

I merely turned the page of my book, saying, "Well, how do you know that?"

Clyde stuck out his bottom lip, shrugging morosely. "I just do, okay? I don't think he's interested."

"It's not going to go anywhere if you don't try."

"Ehnn..." he whined, looking down.

After a pause, I looked at him, waiting. He glanced at me, obviously puzzled, and I nudged him. "You gonna tell me who it is?"

"_No_." He said defiantly, crossing his arms like a small child. Classic Clyde.

"Alright." I turned back to my book, reading in the silence that had descended on the both of us. A couple of minutes passed as Clyde fidgeted next to me, then glanced at me apologetically.

"It's just really embarrassing, okay?" He mumbled. "If it was anybody else, I'd tell you."

"It's fine." I chuckled, then stopped as a thought hit me. "Oh God, it isn't Craig, is it?"

"Ew, no!" Clyde made a little cross with his fingers, as if to ward off evil. "He's my friend, not my—urgh, man, can you imagine if we went out?"

Laughter burst out of me at the thought. "Do you want to scar me for life or something?"

"That's what _I'm_ saying!"

"You'd be acting all traumatized, going, '_Oh, Token, Craig treats me so bad! He's always flipping me off! Oh, what ever shall I do?'_"

Clyde snorted. "Yeah, and you'd be all like, '_That's the price of love, kiddo. A man's gotta flip people off, you know_.'" He shook his head. "Nah, it's not him anyways. Eww."

"I don't get to know who it is?" I chuckled, letting out the last vestiges of my mirth.

The brunet shook his head again, eyes going down to the ground. I looked at him carefully. My best friend looked a little down, although I knew that he knew that I wouldn't think any less of him for liking a guy. We'd still be best friends and all. Well, maybe not if it was Cartman or something. Then I might have to stick him in a mental hospital, for his own sake.

I closed my book for the second time, shoving it halfway in my jacket pocket and thanking God it was only a small paperback and I hadn't brought along anything bigger. "Hey, you know Funland opened up that new rollercoaster, right?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"You been on it yet?" I asked.

"No. I don't have the money to go."

"Well, I do, and I haven't been on it yet, so let's go." I stood up.

Clyde looked at me warily. "You'll pay for everything? Candy and rides and everything?"

I sighed. "Yeah, everything."

"Sweet!" He jumped up off the bench, almost bouncing up and down in his excitement. He seemed to almost instantly forget his depression of two seconds ago. "Aw, cool we have to – we have to go on every single ride, and eat tons of junk food, and I'm gonna win me a stuffed shark!"

I walked forward a little, laughing. "A stuffed shark? Why a stuffed _shark_?"

"Dude, that thing's been there since _forever_, for years; I've wanted it ever since I was nine! The game's so hard, though, I can never get it!" He stomped his foot as he trotted alongside me.

"You stomp your foot like a girl."

"No, I don't. I stomp my foot like a _man_." And he did it again, for emphasis. I nodded shortly, making sure to roll my eyes when I knew he could see me. He huffed in almost silent protest.

The amusement park/year-round carnival was only a twenty minute drive from where we were, and Clyde passed the short time by singing to every song that he knew on the radio. Which was a lot. And me, being the good friend I am, only told him to shut up once.

The line for tickets was long, but eventually we got inside, and Clyde was acting like a little sugar-deprived kid and his first time inside of a candy shop.

"Okay, okay, we have to go on all of the kiddie rides first!"

"Why?"

Clyde looked at me like I was insane. "To build up to the better rides, duh!" He looked around. "Hey look, the teacups! I love those! Let's go on those!"

Now it was _my_ turn to look at him like he was insane. "No, man, I'm not going on any kiddie rides. And the teacups are lame. I have dignity, you know."

The brunet cocked his head thoughtfully, glancing off toward the mentioned ride. "But everyone goes on the teacups. Like, seriously, even adults go on even if they don't have kids. Couples too. The teacups are for everyone, that's what's great about them." I was almost stunned at this infrequent showing of simple reason, when Clyde adopted a sad, fake-pitying look on his face, slipping back into his normal, careless self. His words were spoken in a mock-baby tone, and he grinned. "Aww, did the money suck the fun out of you too? Did it, Token?"

"'The money' is paying for this, so shut up." I looked at the spinning cups, finally relenting. "Alright, let's go on. But the other kiddie rides you're going on yourself."

"Yes!" He raced off toward the line, me following, albeit slower, with much less enthusiasm. "We have to spin ourselves really fast, alright? As fast as we can!"

"Sure."

We managed to snag a solitary cup, and Clyde spun the wheel until the world was a blur of color, me taking over once he was too dizzy. He threw up in the nearest trashcan was soon as we got off.

I waited patiently until he was done, ignoring the people who were walking by and pointedly staring. I had long gone past the point where I was embarrassed by simple things like that. I raised an eyebrow. "I told you we should have stopped spinning it when you got too dizzy." I passed him a tissue from my pocket, and he wiped his mouth on it gratefully.

"Nah, I-I think I just ate too much for lunch." He tossed the used tissue into the trashcan, perking up instantly. "Alright, what's next?"

I just sighed and steered him toward the caterpillar rollercoaster.

A couple of hours, gallons of sugar, a stop at a hamburger place and who-knows-how-many rides later, I was getting the beginnings of a sugar-stomachache, and Clyde found the shooting game and stuffed shark that had eluded him for so long.

"There it is! There it is! Oh my fucking God,_ there it is!_" He was actually jumping up and down, pointing at it madly.

I gave him a twenty. "Yes, we all see it. Go win it or something."

Clyde gave a whoop and ran off to quickly pay and grab a gun, and in the minutes that followed, I learned something. The real reason why he'd never won it. Not because it was totally hard and rigged, or because he'd never had enough money to make it.

No. It was because Clyde _sucked_.

Really, there was no other—or frankly, kinder—way of saying it. He just really, really _really_ sucked. He missed all the stationary targets, even the biggest ones, and there was more of a chance that snowballs would survive in hell than Clyde hitting a moving target. I found myself fearing for the life of the stall owner, that's how bad he was. I don't know, maybe it was because he closed his eyes at the last second before he pulled the trigger. Maybe he had some bad depth perception, although I'm not entirely certain what that might have to do with anything. Clyde whined and moaned and whimpered with every missed shot, so it was like listening to the soundtrack of a dying whale.

The first twenty and ten more dollars went into his mission, and then I finally decided to take a crack at it. Because, really, this was agonizing. But this isn't a perfect world, and I'm not a crack shot. Obviously. I lost. _Obviously_. But at least I managed to hit every stationary target and at least two of the ten moving ones. I got a fat, stuffed crab for my troubles, with long arms and big claws and weird bug eyes attached to the top. It was very strange-looking. If it was supposed to be cute, I wasn't sure if it had succeeded or failed epically. I offered it to Clyde, one, because if I kept it in my room, I might just have nightmares, and two, Clyde looked depressed and almost close to tears.

He always was a bit of a crybaby.

Clyde kicked at the ground miserably, shoulders drooping, and tried to surreptitiously wipe his eyes with a careless hand. It failed. "N-nah, that's okay...I'll get it next time, I know I will." He looked to his right. "Hey, look, i-it's getting pretty late. We should probably go on the Typhoon before it closes or something." He turned his back on the game, shuffling away.

I looked back at the game stall, then at Clyde's back, and finally to the strange, fat crab I held. Jesus, I really didn't want this thing. But I ignored myself, turning back to the man at the stall, pointing to the shark. "Hey, how much is that?"

He peered at me. "If you don't win a game?"

"Yeah. How much for it?"

"Ten bucks."

I felt like laughing. Seriously, so much effort for one damned toy, when I could have just as easily bought it with no sweat off of my brow? For ten measly dollars? "Damn." I muttered. "Forty dollars for a shark. Okay, gimme the thing."

So I bought it, and it joined the crab in my arms as I went in the direction Clyde had gone. The shark was bigger than it had seemed, fat and plushy like its brother. It could almost have been actually cute, if it wasn't for the pitch-black tiny eyes it had and positively demonic toothy grin it wore. Really, this thing was kinda creepy. What kind of kid would actually want this in their room?

I caught sight of Clyde walking in front of me, hiding the shark behind my back; it didn't work out that well, the fins peeked around my side. I sort of found myself wondering if it would try to take a bite out of me. "Hey, Clyde!"

He turned. His eyes were dry now, if a bit red. "Yeah? What're you being all slow for? The line's probably really long."

I ignored the last part, pulling out the stuffed grey creature of my next forty nightmares. "Look what the guy gave me."

There was a moment in which Clyde did nothing. I was worried that maybe he didn't want it unless he had won it himself; manly pride or something. Then the tears came. I mean literal goddamn waterfalls, like just plain-out bawling. And I remembered that this was Clyde and he was a rollercoaster of emotional crap.

He grabbed it, hugging it tight. "He gave it to you?" Came the watery squeak.

"Yeah. Guess he must have been impressed by your determination to spend my money. Just gave it to me and told me to give it to you."

Clyde bawled harder, if possible. Luckily, it _was_ getting late, and people were starting to leave, so we were in relative privacy. I know he hated to let strangers see him cry. "You're a crappy liar." He sobbed. "The money sucked the ability to _lie_ from you! J-just sucked it right out!"

"Okay, okay." I patted his back awkwardly. "Yeah, I bought it. You're welcome."

He managed to calm himself down a little, staring down at the shark toy. "Y-you know, I've wanted th-this for...so long, and, you know what?"

"What?"

"It's really creepy-looking." He laughed, a sob turning it quavery. "Really, really scary-looking. Like, I don't—don't even know why I w-wanted this thing!" He hefted it higher. "And it's heavy! What if it tries to eat me when I'm asleep?"

"Well," I patted him on the back again. "You're just gonna have to deal with that if the time comes. Now come on, we still have to go on the Typhoon before this place closes."

"Alright." Clyde blubbered, wiping his tears on the shark's tail. I handed him another tissue. You have to learn to carry these when Clyde's involved.

We walked on, and very soon the view of a large stretch of metal loomed over us, its shadow enveloping us as the setting sun highlighted it front behind. The newest, and possibly the greatest rollercoaster that would ever come to South Park.

The Typhoon.

Two hundred and sixty feet straight up in the beginning, ninety degrees straight down. And that was only the entree, delving into a combination of seven loops—three of them backwards and consecutive—two corkscrews, lots of nasty little dips, and another hundred-foot drop as a finale. It reached speeds of 150 mph at its fastest, and up to 4 G's of pressure. People had actually passed out in their _seats_. The prefect ride for all of the crazy rednecks of South Park. Which was pretty much all of them.

Seeing as it was almost time for the park to close, the line wasn't nearly as long as we'd thought, so we stowed our prizes in an empty locker easily. The line inched forward and soon we were being loaded into the very front, while a voice blared out over the speakers.

_'Th__is is the last ride of the day, people, so sit back and enjoy your ride on the Typhoon. Make sure to drag your passed out friends out of the vehicle once the ride is over. Thank you!'_

The harness came down over our shoulders, as well as the seatbelts, and Clyde was looking a little nervous as the employees came around for the final check before the ride started. "Hey, um, I didn't tell my mom I'd be here, so...she'll probably be worried now, maybe I should get off and call her." He fumbled with the restraints, but they wouldn't budge.

"Dude, calm down. I'm pretty certain you'll be fine. Your mom'll understand." I looked around. We were part of the last group of people to come on the ride, and half of the seats were empty. Which might explain why we were all alone in the very front. But in all seriousness, the aloneness was a little freaky. Not to mention night was rapidly falling outside front the open doors in front of the cars, casting a dim ambiance on all of us, even with the lights inside here.

The final check was completed, and the ride bucked forward, hooking onto the chain that would take us up. I could see Clyde's face whiten as we started the slow climb up to a very high distance. I started feeling butterflies in my stomach, y'know, that anxious sensation you get when you're on a really dangerous rollercoaster that makes people pass out? Yeah, that.

We went up, up, until we were peeking over the very top, over everything else in the amusement park. Our car went over the edge, and now all of the others would follow into our desperate plunge of exhilarating terror—

And it stopped.

Right there, with our car barely over the edge, everyone still looking up as me and Clyde looked down to the amusement park floor, so very very far down, and it _stopped_. This hadn't happened with any of the other plunges I'd seen outside, they all just went over and down. After a moment, a tiny voice crackled to life in the speaker of every car.

_'Uh, excuse the interruption, we seem to be having some technical difficultie__s. Don't worry, we'll have the ride up and running in a second.'_ The guy must have thought he'd shut off the speaker, because you could hear him yelling at somebody in the background. _'What the hell do you mean you don't know? I don't care if your ass has__ to go up there and connect a fucking wire, get this thing fixed! Those are sixteen fucking lawsuits up there just waiting to happen! What? What do you me—oh.'_ The speaker shut off.

I could hear the other people muttering worriedly behind and below us and I sighed, looking down. It was a very long way down to the floor. "And here's another ride I'll never go on again..." I muttered.

Clyde made a sort of strangled noise, and I glanced at him. The brunet was crouched—I kid you not, he was _huddled_ in a seat that had restraints on it; don't ask me how but he was—eyes wide open and staring at the empty air in front of him, _quivering_ from head to toe, actually _trembling_. His knuckles were turning white from the force of the grip he had on the restraints over his shoulder and stomach.

This guy looked absolutely terrified.

"Clyde?" No response. "Hey, Clyde, hey!" He jerked, his head snapping over to look at me. "Dude, you okay?"

"Yeah!" His voice could only be described as squeaky. "I'm totally fine!"

I raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. "You don't look like it."

"No, no, I'm okay!" I'm really, really okay!" Yeah, he totally _wasn't_. I looked at him carefully, then took in our situation. I sighed.

"You were watching Final Destination yesterday, weren't you?"

"You know I love the third movie!" Clyde whined pathetically. "And I didn't know we were going to Funland today!"

"Why did you even get _on_?" I asked, exasperated.

"I didn't think about it until this thing stopped!" He squealed. Tears came to his eyes again; dear God he was crying. Again. "Holy crap, we're gonna _die_, aren't we?"

Somebody below yelled for Clyde to shut the fuck up, and I took a leaf from Craig's book, turning my body in ways I didn't know it could to hang and arm far back enough over my arched body to flip all the other cars off. Believe me, it was way harder than it sounds. I turned back to look at Clyde. "We're not gonna die, alright? It's just a crappy movie. Here," I extended my hand toward him. Thankfully I was secure enough in my own masculinity to do this. "Pretend you're at the doctor's and squeeze my hand if you're nervous."

"But I hate doctors." Clyde bemoaned, latching onto my hand as if his life depended on it. Which to him, it might have, I don't know. Tears still streamed down his cheeks and he sniffled pitifully. I sighed and gave him another tissue. I was probably financing the tissue business single-handedly.

Clyde sniffled and sobbed and shook for a couple more minutes until he calmed down, and in that time four more people told him by varying degrees to shut up, one even going so far as to demand of me whether or not I could control 'that fat pussy'. That warranted a good cussing out, which I have to say, I did very happily all the while my right hand was being squeezed to death. But finally he stopped shaking and his grip on me loosened somewhat, at least enough for my circulation to resume flowing normally.

"I-I'm okay now." He mumbled, wiping his eyes with his free hand and on his fourth tissue. Of the ride, not the day, mind you. He still didn't let go of my hand. "I'm good." His watery eyes looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Token, for making you do all this."

This actually made me laugh a bit, although not unkindly. "Dude, it's fine. Just think about what Craig would have had to do to keep Tweek calm if they were here; you don't see them getting pissed off at each other for it. They're best friends, and so are we, right? So, it's fine."

"Yeah..." For some reason, Clyde looked depressed at my words. "We've been best friends for a long time, haven't we?"

I chuckled at the question. "Since like, third grade, man."

"Well, what if I don't want to be best friends anymore?"

I stared at him incredulously. "What?" He wasn't actually talking about us stop being friends, was he? Jesus Christ, how do two people suddenly stop being friends, and best friends at that? What had even brought this up in the first place?

Clyde looked down at his lap, his voice dropping until only I could hear it. As if anybody else wanted to hear our conversation anyway. "What if I don't want to be best friends anymore? What if…what if I want to be m-more?" He stumbled over the word, but he gamely pushed through it.

I couldn't say anything, in shock as my mind tried to force upon me the meaning of his words and I tried to reject them. Clyde still didn't look at me as he continued, but his hand still continued to squeeze mine, desperately, anxiously. "You know that guy I mentioned earlier? The one I…had my eye on?"

One word managed to escape me. "Yeah?"

"Well…" The brunet's voice lowered even more until I was straining to hear it, just a couple of words wrapped in a truly miserable tone as he confessed what I already knew, as of three seconds ago. "…it was you."

I was so shocked, the words left my mouth before I could stop them.

"This isn't really your idea of a perfect moment, is it?"

Clyde's head shot up to look at me in a mixture of incredulousness, protest, and what could even be hopefulness, when we were suddenly jolted forward, as the chain that hooked our cars threw us onward, then two hundred and sixty feet straight down.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, so but with anther one, and this one's alot more slow-paced. But I like it all the same. Anyway, thanks be to Trulybliss08 for all her amazing help, and go look her up or something.

No, I don't know the name of the amusement park in South Park, but whateverzzzz.

Umm, for those of you coming from the dark alleys of Tension and Bloodbath, welcome back and no, not nearly as much angst in here. Sowwy. For those who absolutely loved TDTF, this is kinda like it, not much, but I WILL be doing another Dip soon, so woot! More to look forward to! Anyway, welcome back and enjoy the Tyde goodness!

P.S. I don't own South Park. That's my disclaimer.


	2. Pride Is A Stupid Thing

Chapter Two

Pride is a Stupid Thing

You know that feeling when you're just so stunned, you have absolutely no idea what's going on around you? That's what I felt as I went through the Typhoon. To this very day, I cannot remember a single thing about the first, and only time I rode the Typhoon—it was shut down a few months later due to a couple of fatal accidents on it—aside from the fact that everyone was screaming and my mind was in whirl. I couldn't even concentrate properly on the fact that Clyde had told me something so…startling. Everything was just blank.

It was only when I realized three things did I snap out of my shock: one, the ride had stopped and was over; two, everybody had stopped screaming; and three, Clyde once again had a death grip on the hand he had never let go of. I looked around. We were once again in the loading dock, and people were getting off as the shoulder restraints lifted; many of them threw dirty looks our way as they left.

Clyde was actually excited, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "Oh my God, that was so cool, we should totally do it again!" Like he hadn't been sobbing his heart out two hundred and sixty feet in the air.

"Dude, let go." I had just become aware of a very uncomfortable feeling in my wrist. Not even my hand, that had completely lost circulation and even though my skin tone was dark, I was certain my fingertips were purple. I tried to tug my hand away. "Let go."

"What?"

"Let go!" I yanked my hand away, and winced, hissing as my blood made an entrance, sending painful pins and needles through me. I flexed my hand experimentally, frowning, but a little awed. "Damn, Clyde, I bet you'd kill at an arm wrestling contest or something. Ow."

An employee suddenly leaned in toward our car. "Everything alright? None of you passed out?"

"No, we're fine." I said. I stood, gesturing for Clyde to follow me. Together we made our way out, collected our stuffed prizes, and emerged into a dark park, lit by the multiple lights on tops of poles. We could see streams of people ahead of us, all making their way to the entrance, all set on leaving for the night. I whistled. "Wow. Never stayed in a park so long. Come on, I'll drive you home."

As we finally got into my car and drove off, silence descended upon us with all the force of a speeding semi. Clyde didn't even turn on the radio; instead he just clutched that fat, creepy shark and cast 'surreptitious' looks at me every couple of minutes. I say 'surreptitious' because I could clearly see him do it out of the corner of my eye. Poor guy, I bet he actually thought he was being sneaky.

The silence was heavy, oppressively so, but I myself made no effort to break it. I couldn't, it was something in me that warned me not to speak, because if I did, I'd get into something I wouldn't be able to escape from. I'd be trapped. So I stayed quiet, even though the silence was twisting up my insides.

I didn't know what Clyde was thinking. He looked scared, that's all I knew. I could see his fingers trembling on the shark as he held it, and his eyes flickered down to his feet when he wasn't glancing over at me. I didn't know what he was scared of, but then again, I wasn't the one who'd confessed an attraction to a _male_ best friend.

Finally—and thankfully, I thought—we reached Clyde's house, and the brunet hesitated a bit before undoing the seatbelt and opening the door. His mouth opened once, twice, and he looked back at me, that scared tone in his voice.

"Hey, Token, about what I said, back on th—"

"Here." I tossed him my crab, which had been sitting on the dash, staring at me with big, accusing, googly eyes. "You can keep it." Damn those googly eyes.

Clyde looked at me warily, taking it with a timid hand. "B-but you won it. It's yours."

"I was just trying to see if I could get the shark. Just take it, man; I don't want it."

He hesitated again. "Token, can we talk ab—"

I cut him off once more. "Tomorrow. We can talk tomorrow, alright?"

Clyde nodded, that miserable look on his face again. I was afraid he'd start bawling. "Okay. You're…you're still picking me up tomorrow, right?"

"I've done it every day, haven't I?" I think I sounded brusquer than I meant to because he flinched, and I sighed. I just….I just really wanted to get home. "See you later, man." He nodded again and got out, letting the car door slam shut as he shuffled up to his house, still clutching onto the shark and crab.

I lay in bed twenty minutes later, and it was only then that my mind let me fully understand the situation. Somehow, against all the odds of life, my best friend, a _guy_, _Clyde_ of all people, had admitted an attraction to me. At least for now it was only an attraction; thank God he hadn't said straight-out 'I love you'. I didn't know how it was any better, but it was.

Should I feel flattered? That not only was I appealing to women, but to men also? I really didn't know what to think. I wondered what I should tell Clyde. In all honesty, I'd never once thought about being with a guy. I mean, no offense, but why switch teams if you're batting a thousand? I was a ladies man, through and through. But that still didn't stop me from worrying about my best friend's feelings. Like I said before, I wasn't a homophobe, and I wasn't particularly trying to be a jackass, either. I knew I was going to refuse Clyde's…_advances_, if he made any, but I wanted to do it in a way that wouldn't hurt him too much, or at least not make him cry again. He cries too much as it is.

As I pondered this, my thoughts turned to Clyde's words. If I really was the guy he'd had his eye on, then this would've had to be pretty recent, right? I mean, with that phrasing and all. Who knows, maybe this was one of those kinds of things where us being so close for so long had confused Clyde into thinking that our bro love was real love. If that was the case, then I could probably make Clyde see the light. I dunno, if it wasn't, all I could hope for was that we would still be friends. Whether or not he liked me, he was my best friend, and I didn't want anything to suddenly tear that apart. We'd been friends for so long, how could I find someone to replace him, to replace everything we'd been through? It'd be impossible! No, there was no way I'd let that happen. Not because of some 'crush'.

I don't know how I could have possibly gotten any sleep with those thoughts running through my head and my mind in a whirl like that, but I woke up to my alarm clock the next morning, without any idea as to how or when I fell asleep. I guess I mus have slept okay, because I couldn't remember any dreams, and I felt as rested as I usually did on a school week.

As I have for almost three years, I got into my car after a shower and breakfast and drove to pick up my friends. Usually I'd just pick up Clyde, as Craig and Tweek kept riding the bus when high school started, but lately they'd joined us in the mornings and afternoons for rides. I don't bother to guess their motives. We're all close friends and we've been tight since elementary, so it wasn't any matter to me. I was the only one entrusted with this driving responsibility, because Craig didn't have a car—even though he could drive—, Tweek would never achieve a license—God no—and the last time I'd let Clyde drive, he'd rear-ended us into a random car. So, I was the designated driver for all of us.

Clyde was always the last one to be picked up—his house ended up neatly at the end of a route I'd worked out to be the fastest—and by the time I pulled up to his house, Tweek and I were in a very 'deep' discussion about how gnomes _did_ exist, and how they were connected to a secret plot to become widely recognized as the newest symbol for evil and Satan. Don't ask. Tweek's been getting better at being normal for some reason this last month, and while these discussions were strange, he was really smart, and they always got me up and alert. I have to say I liked them.

"_Augh!_ But the t-time, Token, the _time!_" Tweek was screeching as Clyde got in the passenger seat. "Th-three thirty a-a.m.! The night -_gah!_ Has always b-been known as the dw-dwelling -_ngh-_ p-place of evil, and some people even think that th-three thirty -_ngh-_ a-a.m was the t-time Jesus Christ died, when _evil_ won for _three_ days! I-I'm telling you, the gnomes work for Satan! _Gah!_ They want recognition!"

"Tweek, there's been tons of controversy over when Jesus _really_ died. He could have died at eight in the damn night or high noon; if you say the Bible doesn't give us clear specifications, then we'll never know, will we?" I rebutted. "Even your number theory is flawed; some numerologists are saying that the devil's number isn't 333 but 313. Besides, the only real reason the night is feared as evil is because we fear the unknown, and what's more unknown than the dark?"

"Enough." Craig suddenly broke in, slapping a hand over Tweek's mouth. "I'm tired and this is the second day you've been debating this; give a guy a break, will you?"

I looked at him in the rear-view mirror while Tweek struggled against the hand, looking very put out that his argument had been interrupted and sending me looks that clearly said he planned to continue this later in class. I was finding that discussions with Tweek could last weeks if he was really into it, which was more than fine by me. I can't believe I ever forgot the guy was mad-smart. It brought to mind the thought that our little group should hang out together more often. "Craig, you do nothing _but_ sleep. In my car, in class, in lunch if I ever manage to see you with out you disappearing somewhere...how the hell are you even passing?"

Craig only gave me a slight grin—he was doing that more often now, actually. It was both creepy and a good change in him—and let go of Tweek to grab the blond's backpack instead, fully intent on getting and copying his homework, while Tweek barely even waved a hand to protest the invasion of what he usually called his 'God-given right to privacy'.

Now free of any obligation to conversation, I spared a glance from the road to Clyde, wondering why he was being so quiet today. Usually he'd join in any conversation that was going on, whether or not he knew what it was about. It made for some funny moments.

Clyde was leaning his head on the window, eyes closed and lips sightly parted, the epitome of a man asleep. I would have thought he was faking, but I knew from experience that Clyde's a horrible actor, and I could see dark circles under his eye. Obviously he'd had a sleepless night; I decided not to bother him until we got to school. It was better not to rush things, anyway.

Soon I was parking the car next to the school building, and Craig got out, yawning, followed closely by a now agitated Tweek, who was peering into his thermos and asking if they could go to the teacher's lounge first. I found my attention fixed on them. Craig and Tweek: the most mismatched pair ever to exist, closer than two peas in a pod.

I prodded Clyde, who came awake with a jolt and half-hearted yell of "Zombies!", his hands flailing in the small space. He looked around, and seemed almost surprised at where we were. "I thought I was getting attacked by zombies..." he mumbled, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Being used to Clyde's strange belief in an upcoming zombie apocalypse, I ignored it, looking at him carefully. "What's wrong?"

Clyde glanced at me for the merest second before looking down, mumbling something as he rubbed his eyes. He made as if to get out of the car and I let him, getting out as well and grabbing my stuffed binder from the dash. Stepping next to him, I asked, "I didn't hear you. What d'you say?"

The brunet gripped his backpack strap tightly, shrugging. "...couldn't sleep last night."

"Did you get in trouble with your mom?"

He gave a small laugh, a little dry in my opinion, although I didn't know why. "She got pretty pissed at me when she saw me come in...but she calmed down when I told her I'd been hanging out with you. Guess you can't go wrong with the rich, smart guy, right?"

"Hmm." Clyde seemed down, that much I knew for certain, and I knew for a fact it wasn't because of some sleepless night; they'd never affected him like this before. I wondered if he was offended by my curt responses outside of his house last night. Maybe I should have just explained to him that I wasn't interested from the very start, although I don't see how I could have done that, seeing as I was in shock back then and the ride had started almost immediately after he'd confessed to me anyway.

To be honest, I didn't know how to bring it up now, and it was only because of that that I stayed silent on the way to his locker. I myself didn't have one to go to; I carried everything I needed in my binder. You can guess the walk was awkward.

Eventually the first bell rang and we all trooped to our first classes. We didn't all have the same classes like we did when we were younger, but in the classes me and Clyde shared, I saw him more subdues than usual; sitting silently instead of flicking notes to other people, like he normally would have been doing.

Craig and Tweek joined us for lunch and Clyde seemed to regain a little life in him, joking along as usual. But I knew him; he wasn't into it as he should have been. On any other day, Craig would have noticed the difference immediately, seeing as he's one of the most observant people I know—don't let that blank exterior fool you—but Clyde and I were lucky today. Tweek was freaking out because the teacher's lounge had run out of coffee and he'd had to ration out his supply of the liquid addiction.

"Jesus freakin' Christ, w-what if -_nghh!_ M-my body shuts down -_erk-_ an-and I _die?_" He shook his thermos violently, madly, so you could clearly hear the liquid sloshing around in it. Craig sighed, patting the other's bright blond hair with the air of someone who's day wouldn't be complete without a spaz moment to enjoy.

"You have more chance of your body shutting down _because_ of the caffeine—" "Oh _God!_" "—and I don't think either will happen." He finished, pulling out a large Styrofoam cup from seemingly nowhere. Tweek gave out some kind of happy squeal-shriek—not that anyone cared by this point—and lunged for it, wrapping eager hands around it and popping the top off, greedily inhaling the rich aroma of the magical substance inside of it.

Of course, this 'magic move' didn't surprise me; I'd seen him sneaking it under his jacket, away from Tweek's eyes as we got in the cafeteria. Besides, I was part of the gift; Craig had texted me during fourth to ask if he could borrow my car, and I gave him my keys as we passed each other in the hall. I imagine he'd skipped fifth to get it...I'd inspect my car for damages later.

My eyes flitted over to Clyde, and I was surprised instead at what I saw. He was staring at Tweek with what I could only call a dark expression, not hate, but something deeper I couldn't identify. It was so unlike him, so different, I wanted to reproach him for even having it. After a moment, Clyde looked away, and saw me looking at him; his eyes found the floor. Standing up, he muttered something about the bathroom; Craig was busy watching Tweek slurp his new-found treat, so I was the only one who nodded at the statement, but he walked away pretty fast, so I don't think he saw.

For the rest of the day Clyde continued with his weird behavior, and continued to mystify me with it. He was silent as I drove all of them home, he was silent as he got out of the car, and he didn't even give me a "see you later"; as I had already dropped off Craig and Tweek, no one was around to comment on the abnormality and again I let it pass in silence.

I expected Clyde to be back to normal the day after; his depressed moods—on the very rare occasion he had them—never lasted long. After being subjected to a day of strange Clyde, and before that a day of awkward confession, I was eager to have my best friend back.

So imagine my confusion when the next day, as Clyde got into the passenger seat, he still wore that blankly miserable look, and possessed that silent demeanor. He still looked tired, and he didn't even look at me as he put on his seatbelt and leaned back, eyes closed. Tweek was distracted by the hat Craig had let him borrow—he loved to wear it and play with the tassels, don't ask me why—but I saw Craig's eyes snap to Clyde for a second, then move over to give me a very pointed glance from the rear-view mirror. I was going to hear about this later; Craig had caught the 'scent', so to speak.

The car was silent for the rest of the ride, and while I did nothing to break it, this time it grated annoyingly on my nerves. I wanted my best friend back and the only way I could see to quickly get everything back to normal was to confront him about whatever the hell was bothering him. However, that would most likely involve a particular subject I was definitely not looking forward to.

Craig tossed me a look as he got out of the car with Tweek, but thankfully said nothing. He wanted to give me a chance to do something before he asked me what was wrong. I thought that to be a very gracious move, and I thanked him silently in my head.

My indecision lasted as far as the first bell, where Clyde—who'd been silent all this time—moved away from me to go to his first period. In reality, it was Craig's 'graciousness' that decided me. If I couldn't tell him I'd actually _done_ something about it, he'd give me one of those wordless, disappointed looks of his. And let me tell you, you don't want to be on the receiving end of those.

I grabbed Clyde by the arm, turning around and dragging him through the crowd of people intent on the opposite direction. Obviously, he struggled.

"Hey! Token, what the hell, I'm gonna be late! Dude, let go, Rhodes'll kill me if I skip! Token!" I walked faster as he protested, trying not to think about what was coming and only concentrating on getting us away from prying eyes, but I had my work cut out for me. Clyde is deceptively strong—no matter how stocky he is, he's not some damsel in distress—but somehow I managed to drag him far enough that he finally gave in, muttering darkly under his breath as I led him outside into the parking lot.

When I finally got us to my car, I gestured to the passenger seat. "Get in."

He looked at me, a clearly reluctant expression on his face. A little bit of normal Clyde pushed through as he whined—yes, whined like some little kid—"Do I _have_ to?"

In spite of the situation, I had to hold back some laughter at his expression. Really, you'd have to see his face to understand, he puts all puppies to shame. It was with great effort that I managed to keep a straight face and nod curtly. He squirmed for a second, then finally sighed and got into the car under my watchful eye, leaving me free to get in myself.

Turning on the ignition, I wondered what I was doing. Was I doing the right thing? I may have been worried about Clyde's sudden 'stepping back' from me, but he hadn't really brought the...'subject' up to me or anything. What if he'd just really didn't want to talk about it? Did _I_ really want to talk about it?

My mind was in a horrible whirl, but surprisingly, on the inside I felt calm and a little bit detached from it all. I don't know why, but I couldn't find it in me to actually worry about our upcoming talk. Maybe I expected it to work out from the very beginning. Maybe it hadn't really hit me yet. Maybe it had been Clyde's familiar whine, that same bit of normality that somehow convinced me that everything would work out fine.

All of this went through my head in the couple of minutes it took me to back out and drive through the gate and out of school property. The guard was asleep at the gate—just like he was every day—so no one noticed us leaving. I could just hear the last echoes of the tardy bell ringing throughout the school as I left and Clyde let out another mutter, "Gonna be super late..."

I didn't know where I was going, only that I wanted someplace away from the public, where we could talk in private without any interruptions and for some reason I knew I wouldn't get that anywhere close by. When I passed our small town's city limits, Clyde started to get worried.

"Uh, Token...where're we going?"

I didn't know how to respond, seeing as I didn't know myself, so I just said, "Somewhere." He fidgeted a little more after that.

After a moment or so, I suddenly caught sight of a small parking lot to my left by the side of the road, right before it came to a bridge; right out of the corner of my eye I saw the tiny sign in front of it, saying only, "Fishing Pier". Funny, I hadn't known we had one of these. But it looked empty and that was all that mattered to me at this point.

Slowing down, I made the turn and parked, turning off the ignition and getting out. Clyde was a couple of seconds behind but he followed me anyway as I walked onto the bridge, unhurried in my movements. This place really was empty, and the road spanned out ahead to what almost seemed the horizon, so I would know if anyone approached. I leaned against the concrete railing, looking down into the cold, slow-moving waters of the river below. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Clyde mimic my position next to me. There were a few tense moments of silence.

"So are we gonna stay silent or actually talk?"

Clyde twitched a bit,whether in consternation or anger I couldn't tell, and took a bit in answering. "Didn't seem like you were in too much of a hurry to break the silence."

I knew he wasn't just talking about our silence now; he referred to our silence of the past days, and I had a hard time in coming up with something to say in response. I wouldn't deny that I had a big hand in all of this. Clyde may never have brought up the subject with me, but neither had I; I had ignored him just as he had ignored me, and I knew I hadn't made the slightest effort to break through the silence, when in all truth I knew that I hadn't _wanted_ to break through it anyway. I was honestly afraid of how badly this would change our relationship. In a perfect world, everything would go on normally, as if nothing had ever happened and we'd put it behind us, but life didn't work out that way, especially in this fucked up backwater town. I knew that. This had to affect us somehow, in _some_ way, and I was afraid by what form it would take.

I didn't disagree with the spoken words, instead only responding with, "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

Clyde shrugged moodily, laying his head down on his crossed arms over the railing. I could feel the impending silence, looming over us dangerously and threatening to swallow the rest of our words. I resisted the temptation to give into it, forcing my mouth to open and speak.

"So...why're you so silent now? Avoiding something?"

Clyde remained mute and I was worried he wouldn't rise to my verbal prodding, that he really wasn't going to answer and we'd never get past this subject. Then he laughed—actually laughed, really—and said in a very bitter voice, "No. You're the one who doesn't want to talk to me."

I was taken aback by the tone of his words; wasn't I the one who was leading this conversation while he hid behind the shield of his arms and avoided my eyes? "What're you talking about, of course I do!"

"No you don't!" The rest of his words became muffled as he buried his head deeper into his jacket. "The only thing I want is to talk to you about it, but you've made it very clear that you don't! You don't even care, you hate it!"

The spotlight was back on me now, and it was a very uncomfortable, searing light. I didn't want to admit my insecurities to him—it felt like a blow to my pride—but obviously Clyde was under the very false impression that I hated him for liking me or something. Which, now that I thought about it, was very, very stupid. Me and Clyde had been friends since we were little brats playing pirates, surely he knew that if I really hated him, I wouldn't have agreed to let him in my car the next day, or ever picked him up at all after that confession. Besides, what reason could I possibly have to hate him? I wasn't a gay-basher, he knew that. I wondered for a sad fragment of a second if he really thought I was that shallow.

But I digress in my thoughts. I had to tell him that it wasn't that, it was my own fears, no matter how much my pride stung and whined along the way.

"Well," I began, "I don't hate you and I do want to talk about it, but...I didn't really _know_ how to bring it up." _Or how to put it into words now,_ I thought ruefully. "I was, uh, I was a little scared, actually. You're my best friend, Clyde; I don't want things to change because of a confession, and I thought they would." Ow, my pride.

Clyde peeked up almost anxiously. "Like, me not being your friend anymore? Why would that happen? I don't want to _stop_ being your friend."

I looked down, bracing myself. "I don't know...things always change after stuff like this, you hear it all the time. Man, I don't want stuff to change. You're my _best friend_. So, y'know, I just kept quiet. I thought if I brought it up, then everything would go to hell. In fact, I kinda figured...we just wouldn't mention it again. For the good of both of us."

Aaaaand, goodbye pride, see you in the afterlife.

There was a pause, and then Clyde glared at me. I mean, seriously _glared_ at me, with an anger I was definitely not used to, coming from him. I wondered what I had done wrong. "Wouldn't mention it? For the _good of both of us_? What, you just want me to forget that I like you?"

I winced at the last three words, blocking his anger with careless words that I honestly hadn't meant to come out. "Oh come on, man, you don't even really like me." I didn't mean to say it, I swear, but Clyde's eyes widened incredulously at my words.

"What?"

"Yeah, you don't actually like me." I hadn't meant to say it, but now it was out and I figured I might as well tell Clyde the folly of his actions. My tone was confident; looking back on it, that was downright pretty arrogant and conceited of me, but I thought I was perfectly in the right. "Look, we've just been friends for so long, you _think_ you like me, but you really don't. It's bro love, man. Bro love."

Clyde straightened up in one quick, fluid movement, face flushed, and there was a hard light in his eyes, letting me know he was really angry now. "How the _hell_ can you say that?" He took a step toward me. "You don't even know how long I've liked you!" Another angry step. "You big-headed _jerk_!"

Then he grabbed me by my scarf and dragged a very confused me forward, face determined. We were mere inches apart when his eyes widened, and he froze. Again, I was confused to what was going on, until he blushed brighter than hell, and then I knew.

I laughed. "Were you gonna try to _kiss _me?"

Clyde flushed deeper, almost throwing me back, stuttering, "N-no!" He ended up with his hands tangled in his hair on the railing again, avoiding my gaze.

I laughed louder, incredulously at the obvious lie. "Oh my God, that was such an epic fail!"

"I wanted to!" He whined, dropping his head into crossed arms now, muffling his words. "But you were so close and you were looking right at me and I couldn't!"

"Obviously I was close, stupid!"

"You suck, Token, you really, really, suck." He muttered.

In any normal circumstance, I would be really freaked out that a guy just tried to kiss me. But this was Clyde, and he was such a wuss, even in a situation when you think he'd grow some balls, that his fail just cut through all the tension between us, and I found that I was able to talk to him normally now. It was really too funny.

I chuckled again, shaking my head at the sheer insanity of Clyde's lack of a backbone, and leaned next to him on the railing, grinning. "So you said I didn't know how long you'd liked me. Then tell me. How long?"

I didn't think it's be too long a time. After all, he'd said he'd 'had his eye on' me, so that couldn't be too long, right? A week at least, maybe a month at the very most, I thought.

Clyde was silent, and then he grumbled unintelligibly, sighed once, and then muttered louder, "...nearly two years..."

I nodded at the confession. "I see..."

Then,

"_What?_"

I could almost see Clyde roll his eyes. "Took you a bit, didn't it?"

I was in genuine shock.. "Two years? You;'d said you'd had your eye on me, not that you've liked me for a crapload of time! That's a totally misusage of language!"

"Well, ex-_cuse_ me, mister English professor..."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I pressed on.

Clyde looked up at me from the circle of his arms, voice biting again. "What was I supposed to tell you? 'Hey, Token, I know you're straight, but I've developed these totally gay feelings for you! You wanna go out?'" He looked agonized. "You were dating and screwing half the cheerleaders in your freshman year! I couldn't tell you _anything_!"

I fumbled for words, unexpectedly finding myself on the defense. "Well, maybe I was, and you didn't have to tell me like that, but you couldn't at least said _something_!" I crossed my arms, scowling.

"And look what happened when I did!" Clyde straightened up but somehow seemed even smaller than before, as if he were lost, or afraid. "I told you and you couldn't wait to stop touching me, to get away! You pulled your hand away like I had some sort of fucking disease!"

I threw up my hands in the air in exasperation. "Because you were cutting off my circulation, you retard! I couldn't feel my hand at all because you were squeezing it so hard!"

The brunet stared at me. "...oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'." I scoffed, glaring. "Man, how do you even know you really like me? We're going through all this crap; how do _I_ know you do?"

"Because I _do_!" Clyde exploded, standing ramrod straight as he stared at me, pleadingly, begging almost and somehow defiant as he gripped the railing, and I was shocked to see his eyes turn watery. Oh damn, he was going to cry, something I'd really _not_ wanted to happen. It sucks when you know you're the reason your best friend's crying. His voice trembled. "I really like you, I'm telling you now, but none of it really matters because you're still not gonna say yes!" He ended with a dry sob, looking off to the side, at the waters below. "You don't like me that way, and I knew this wouldn't work out, because you don't even believe me."

I saw his wet eyelashes tremble under the weight of unshed tears.

"Let's test it then." The words were out of my mouth before I could really think about them, but I was too far gone in my desire to prove him wrong, and thus end Clyde's tears. His affection was mistaken, I knew it. Clyde was way too emotional, his tears right now proved it, so he had to be mistaken about liking me.

I was going to prove it.

My words were strong, absolute, prideful, and completely insane. "I'll go out with you. For a month. And then we'll see if you really like me or not."

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**A/N:** Yeah, finally anther chapter! Woot!

...nobody likes this pairing *sobs* This thing has less than ten reviews! *uber sobs*

Okay, I'm good. Reviews are love and cupcakes!


	3. The Wonders of School Society

**I AM BAAAACK! ***dodges rotten tomatoes* Yes, yes, I know it took a long long long long long long long long while! Since Easter. I am ashamed. *hangs head down* But to be truthful, this story is coming along very difficultly. I'm starting to lose the idea that I first had in mind for it. THIS DOES NOT MEAN I SHALL ABANDON IT! It just means the updates will take long now. And my interwebbies is NOT permanent (back at my mom's house for a bit) so...yah...but enjoy!

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**Chapter Three**  
**The Wonders of School Society**

Clyde stared at me as if I had lost my mind. Maybe I had. "What?"

"You heard me." I was practically gloating in my conviction. Oh, stupid, naïve me. "You and me will go out for a month. Then, once you 'have me', you'll realize that you're confusing your bro love."

Clyde looked confused. At least the tears had stopped shining in his eyes. "So...you're gonna go out with me?"

"For a month." I affirmed.

There was pause, and then tears poured down his cheeks. Seriously just _poured_; some country in Thailand was probably missing its monsoon season. I jumped back in shock. "Holy crap, why're you crying?"

"What?" The brunet actually looked surprised, and he touched his cheeks hesitantly. "Oh...I-I didn't even feel it." He sniffled, giving me a tearful smile, and I was reminded of when I gave that stupid, fluffy shark. "I'm just so happy."

_Dear God..._ I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at him, pulling a bunch of tissues from my pocket and handing them to him. So many trees killed for him... Clyde took them gratefully, wiping his eyes.

"Come on." I gestured back to the parking lot. "Let's go sit in the car. It's cold out here."

"We're not going back to school?"

"Yeah, we are, but first and second periods suck, and if I'm skipping, I'm definitely skipping those." I led Clyde back to the car and we both sat inside as I turned the ignition and turned on the heater. I relaxed and closed my eyes. It was then when it hit me.

I had just agreed to go out with my best friend.

My _male_ best friend.

And going out meant...

"So..." Clyde's voice made me wince. Damn, I knew he wasn't stupid, but why, oh why couldn't this be one time where he didn't think? "What do you mean by 'going out'? Like…_actually_ going out?"

His voice had just the smallest bit of slyness to it, and I knew exactly what he was really asking. I'd set my challenge on the table, and now he was asking if I could really go through with it. This was it. If I wanted to back out, this was the time. Right now. I wanted to do it, I wanted to just say "I can't do this" and get it over with. I couldn't go out with Clyde, I couldn't go through with something like this!

But my damned pride, which I'd thought was good and dead for a while, did a Jesus on me and latched onto my lips, forcing the words, "Yes, actually going out. Publicly and everything." out of my mouth.

"Yeah, right." My eyes snapped open and I looked at Clyde, who only flushed in embarrassment. I don't think he meant for that to come out, much less for me to hear it.

"What do you mean, '_yeah right'_?" I snapped back.

He fumbled for words, gesticulating wildly. "Well, come on, Token, you're straight. You can't do this. I mean, even if you were actually serious, you couldn't hold my hand with any romantic intention, much less kiss me or anything."

As stupid as it sounds, the words stung. What did he mean, I couldn't do this? Did he really think I'd wuss out or something? That I'd care if people talked or saw? Hell, I was a man on a damn mission, and if I was going to do it, I was going to do it! So yeah, I was going to date Clyde, and do everything else that came along with it! Screw appearances!

I'm embarrassed, looking back on my reactions now, but I can't help that I was an arrogant idiot. And with that determined mindset, I leaned across the seat, the dangerous look in my eye making Clyde jerk back until his head hit the window. I eyed him down, drawing closer and closer until I had trapped him there, my legs on my seat, hands gripping the seat on either side of him.

Clyde's face flushed darker than I thought it could go as I said, "Clyde, you're not my best friend if you're doubting me on this. I _can_ do this. Watch me." And with that, I tilted my head a bit to the side, leaning forward to kiss him.

And had my hand slip off of the edge, sending my face crashing into my best friend's chest.

There was a pause in which I spat out Clyde's jacket, trying to heave myself up, and then I heard the brunet's almost hysterical laughter. Okay, never mind._ Now _goodbye pride. Total total goodbye: I'll never see you again.

"What was _that?_" He laughed. "Oh my God, and you called _my_ attempt an epic fail! That was horrible! Just totally horrible!"

"Shut up." I muttered, finally able to get up. I sat up, glowering at Clyde, who looked like he was about to suffocate on his own laughter.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" He howled. "There was, like, this one moment when you were falling, and your face was all just like, '_Whaaaa?'_ Oh my God, it was hilarious!"

"Goddammit." Okay, seeing as I had done the equivalent of chopping off my junk and emasculating myself as a man, I had nothing to lose. I lunged across at him, with just as much intention to shut him up as anything else, and grabbed him by the shoulders, darting forward to lock lips with him.

I wish I could say I felt wrong, or disgusted, or even a bit sick; kissing Clyde should have been as wrong as tonguing my mother. Hell, I wish it had even been the opposite. I wish I'd felt a spark, a flame, or that a tingly feeling had started in my stomach and fireworks had gone off in my head or whatever it is that happens in cheap romance books.

But I didn't feel a single thing.

It was just the same as kissing another girl. Aside from my idiocy in elementary school, I'd never been in love with anybody. I dated girls, I slept with them, frankly, because I could, and just to chase some tail. I was almost as bad as Kenny in that regard. But kisses had never meant much to me and neither did they now, and so I was able to kiss Clyde as if he were just another girl I was dating. Which let me think, very wrongly indeed as I found out much later, that I could totally pull this off with Clyde and prove it wasn't real.

I let the kiss linger for a second before pulling back, meeting Clyde's wide, shocked eyes. Yes, hello, pride, glad to see you're back, I've certainly missed you.

And then he spoke. "Dude...that was so gay."

_No, pride, come back! Come baaaack!_ I rolled my eyes, scowling. "No Clyde, I'm going to kiss a dude and it totally _won't_ be gay."

He seemed to snap out of his daze, babbling. "No, that's not...I didn't mean it like that, I just meant that you actually went through with it, like, holy crap I wasn't expecting that, it just caught me so off guard I didn't have time to think and then you were k—"

As I was only inches away from his face, it was an easy matter for me to dip down and kiss him again, and thankfully, he shut up. This time as I pulled away, I saw that he was blushing.

"Th-that's actually really nice." He squeaked, and blushed even darker when I raised an eyebrow at him "I-I mean, y'know, j-just saying you're not a bad kisser—uh, wait, no, I m-meant—"

"Dude, chill." I sat up, resuming my earlier resting position. "We're going out, say what you want."

Clyde suddenly pouted. "This doesn't even count or anything. You haven't properly asked me out yet."

I was stunned. "Me? Why me; you're the one who wants me, Mr._I-liked-you-for-two-damn-years-and-never-said-anything_."

He had the audacity to scoff. "Phht, that's not the way it works. The guy always asks the girl out, duh."

"Maybe in the eighteenth century. Where is this coming from, '_Sappy Romance 101_'? Besides, you're not a _girl_." I shot back.

"It's common sense, stupid." Did he just call me stupid? "You're the one wearing the pants in this relationship, aren't you? Or do _you_ want to be the girl?"

I laughed. "_Hell_ no. I wish to retain at least that aspect of my masculinity." A thought struck me and I couldn't help but tease him with it, not expecting him to take me seriously. "Well, at least when we take it to the bed, we won't have to argue about it."

Clyde froze, his entire face and neck flushing scarlet and crimson. And I watched this most interesting reaction, a thin trickle of blood began to leak from his nose.

"Holy—!"

I rushed to pull out some tissues as he flailed around wildly in the small space, squealing, "I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding, oh my God!"

"Hold still!" I grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to stop moving as I wiped some blood off, holding the tissues tightly to his nose as I pinched it, cutting off the flow. "Damn, I thought that only happened in cartoons." I muttered.

"Sorry." His voice was muffled and nasally, but I could understand it well enough. He sounded apologetic. "I'm kinda anemic."

"Since when the hell are you anemic?" I grumbled, keeping my hand to his nose.

Clyde shrugged, unable to shake his head, seeing as I was still holding his chin. "Nah, it's just because I have such a crap diet. My mom says I'm missing iron; says I should eat more fish. Probably would have started to bleed anyway."

"My God," I sighed, shaking my head. "It's all the tacos, I'm telling you."

"Don't be dissing on my tacos." He grinned and I rolled my eyes again. And I figure...his earlier words made a tiny fragment of sense. If only to fulfill my role, maybe I should just play along with his request. After all, he maybe have been the one to confess to me, but it had been _I_ who'd brought the challenge to the table. I should man up, or something. I looked at him, holding his gaze.

"Clyde...you wanna go out with me?" It was amazing I could get the words out as nonchalantly as I did.

He blinked rapidly, stuttering, "W-what?"

"Come on, you heard me. I'm asking you out." I checked to see if the blood flow had stopped. "So, you wanna go out? Yes or no."

Clyde hesitated, then grinned shyly. "Yeah...okay."

"Alright then. See; now we're 'officially' going out." We stayed like that until I was certain the blood had stopped, and then I put on my seatbelt, waiting until Clyde had done the same before I started the drive back to school. My best friend—and now temporary boyfriend—was off in his own little la-la land, wearing a smile the most punch-drunk idiot would have been hard pressed to beat.

I checked my watch as I pulled inside the school's parking lot for the second time that day, once again completely unnoticed. God, this school needed better security. I had judged my time perfectly, however; we had only a minute left before the bell rang for third period.

We got out of the car together and walked toward the door to the school's halls. This, right here, is where I began to feel a nervous fluttering deep in the bowels of my stomach. I wasn't nervous about what people would say or think of me—hell, I didn't care—but instead about what I knew I had to perform. From here on, from the minute the bell rang and people began to pour out, I would be tested. My very pride and determination would be tested as they both had never been tested before. I'd gone out with ugly girls, stupid girls, practically crazy girls, and I'd never felt such apprehension than at the thought of going out in public with my male best friend.

I took an inward breath. I had kissed him. I, Token Black, had kissed a guy. And frankly, it had been easy. Y'know aside from the embarrassment of such an epic failure, but I'd felt nothing, so I could totally do this.

I took a glance over at Clyde, who so far had walked in silence by my side in the few seconds it had taken my thoughts. I nearly started in surprise.

He was looking down, but not at the ground; he stared at my open hand with puppy eyes, and I saw an expression of curious longing in his face. A flash of understanding hit me, and my insides quailed a bit. I'd held Clyde's hand on more than one occasion. When we were kids, when he really didn't want to go someplace because he thought it was too scary and I had to drag him in there, but this time was different. Today, I had to hold his hand because I was his _boyfriend_. I had to hold his hand with some sort of romantic intention. Or the pretense of it, at the very least.

Clyde had his head somewhat down, so he couldn't see my gaze directed at him. I knew I had to take charge. This was my mission, was it? Here was my first chance to man up; I knew what I was required to do.

At that last thought we reached the door and I did indeed man up, stretching my hand out to him, entangling our fingers together. Somewhere inside, I was surprised, just a bit. It was just the same as holding a girl's hand. It didn't feel horribly different or uncomfortable just because he was a guy; it was still the same as anyone else. For some reason, that caught me off guard. As I said before, I'm not a homophobe, but...I don't know, I almost expected it to feel different.

I was also surprised at _him_ though. Clyde wasn't a fat kid by any means, but he had a bit of pudge on him, and so I was surprised by how small his hand seemed in mine. I'd never taken notice of it before. He had delicacy in his fingers, not overtly slender—phht, no, he's a man for God's sake—but delicate, soft...I could feel his _timidity_ of the moment, if that made any sense.

The bell rang.

Before I could look at his expression, I opened the door firmly and stepped in with Clyde at my side.

You ever heard the phrase, "_Money talks_"? That was never any truer than it was with me. I had friends I'd never known before, or even talked to, hanging out near me in the halls or classrooms, waving to me like they were my best buds whenever I passed. I admit it, I was popular, and I knew it. Only because I was rich. I'm pretty certain being the only black person in South Park had something to do with it too, but it was mainly the rich thing. I had never really cared, but you can imagine the stares and looks we got as we—well, _I—_strutted down the hall, students pouring from every door.

I saw Clyde's almost panicked expression from the corner of my eye, and he almost yanked his hand away from mine; I gave a not-quite-so-subtle yank and drew him closer, so no one could mistake what I meant by our interlocking gesture. I had to be bold. Our school's token—no pun intended, har har har—gay couple was Cartman and Butters, who had come out earlier in the year. Besides them, no one else had publicly come out yet, but pretty much everyone had been subject to the sight of them making out somewhere in the school. Kenny was known to sleep with both sexes, but even he kept his trysts to the more private side of discretion. So I was fully aware of the waves I was making in our school's existing state of affairs toward the socially acceptable.

Clyde however, seemed to have forgotten, or at the very least not thought about it until this very minute. I tilted my head in his direction, meeting his eyes as I gave him a languid smile, swallowing any shame I possibly possessed in my body to murmur at him. "Relax, _babe_." I chuckled, laying it on thick. I had to make it very clear we weren't bothered by the stares, because I was very well aware of the power of the public. They'd tear you apart if you gave them half the chance. And that would definitely get in the way of my mission.

The brunet by my side blushed at the endearment. The tiny pinprick of fear I saw in him didn't actually leave, but as we neared his locker amid all of the gossiping whispers he relaxed a little, and some of the less interested people turned away to resume their business.

Soon enough we were at our destination and I dropped his hand to let him open the lock, but didn't move away from him, instead leaning in front of him to watch him open it. I bent my head down a little, dropping the act for a second to whisper in a voice only he could hear.

"Little nervous?"

Clyde flushed a little, but his face had gotten so red over the last few minutes it barely made a difference; the only reason I could tell was because I knew his expressions. He withdrew his textbook for the next class, muttering lowly, "It's not me I'm nervous for..."

"What do you mean by that?"

It was the second time today—or was it the third?—that he'd looked at me like I was completely nuts, and the rising occurrence of such looks was making _me_ a little nervous.

Clyde looked as if he wasn't going to say anything for a second, then looked away, glancing needlessly into his locker when he knew all he needed was his textbook. "I-I don't know how to explain it...I mean, I've always been your friend, but that's kind of all I am. I'm just 'Token's friend'. To the guys from elementary school I'm one of them, but to the school, I'm just some guy who happens to be friends with you. I wouldn't be much if I wasn't. But you," he looked at me. "You're Token Black. You're the most popular guy here; everyone knows you." His voice lowered a little more, and I leaned in further to hear it.

"Wh-what I'm saying is," He looked tortured as he said this, wringing his hands in a way that was reminiscent of Butters, "If a whole buncha crap is gonna drop on you because of this, then...then maybe we shouldn't do this. I mean, you don't really want to anyway..."

I was stunned, and just a bit touched. Trust Clyde to be worried about something like that. I really hoped I could persuade him to reason, because how could I lose such a good friend like him? There was a reason he was my best friend, y'know, besides the fact that he was awesome in his own strange way.

The warning bell rang and I reached over to slam his locker shut, tugging him back to my side in a continuation of my mission. To be totally honest, I felt the happy light of pride in me. I knew I wouldn't care if my so-called 'friends' left me; as I said before I was more than well-aware of the stature I held in school, and I knew that almost all of it was because of my money, not anything special or spectacular that I had done. Well, maybe the massive parties I held had something to do with it too besides the fact that I was black, but that's another story. But I looked forward to shaking things up a little. I knew that a lot of my 'friends' would leave the instant they found out I was with another guy. I didn't give a crap, I knew it wasn't real. But the looks on their faces when _they_ found that out was another matter; I would have the ultimate privilege of seeing those same people come crawling back, begging for forgiveness.

Now, I know this sounds horrible. It is. But high school tends to be that way. And I admit that it was pretty vindictive of me to think this way. Does this make me a horrible person? Maybe. Do I regret it now? Yes. Did I regret it then? Oh hell no.

Besides, I was actually really happy at that point in time. Clyde's words gave me hope, that even if somehow this ended out horribly, we would still remain the best of friends. I didn't want to hurt him, and if he was as concerned for me as he was for my rep, then we would have no problems. This, of course, only cemented my notion that everything would work out my way.

We started walking again, and I saw Clyde's look of somewhat confusion that I hadn't responded to his worries. Just for the benefit of our watchful audience, I plucked the textbook from his hands and put an arm around his waist instead of intertwined with his hand, tucking him by my side. It was actually just like holding a girl, expect my girls usually wore skin-tight clothing and were giggling stupidly in my ear or something. Clyde just stayed a dark red as I leaned to whisper to him—to the public only sweet nothings, but in actuality the more innocent, "Come on, first off, you know I don't care. I'm only popular because I have money. Anyway, you do that homework for Peterson?"

Clyde seemed less nervous now that I'd steered the conversation into safer waters, and he relaxed in my grip, almost cuddling against me. "Nah, you know all that English stuff confuses me."

"We have a couple minutes before class; I'll give you mine to copy."

"Sweet, thanks, man!" The brunet perked up, back to his normal self, nudging me gratefully as we approached class, a normal smile on his still-red face.

We entered class amongst other whispering students, and I saw Stan glance our way, then continue arguing with Kyle. Obviously, not one of their own group would care. We came from a town that tested the very boundaries of reality; we really don't care who's gay or not. Not even Cartman, ha.

Mrs. Peterson just gave us a glance and went back to typing on her computer.

Clyde and I parted at our seats, and I grinned at him as I handed him my homework, whispering, "Should I kiss you goodbye?"

He flushed as he violently protested. "N-No!"

A couple of people turned to look, but Clyde only grumbled at my grin, sitting in a huff and very pointedly ignoring me. I only meant it as a joke, but it got me wondering instead.

Truthfully, I couldn't see why Clyde was acting all nervous now. While it touched me that he would think of me and my rep and all, I knew he knew that I didn't care for most people's opinions. Was there something else then? And that blush, what had that been about? It confused me...the girls I ha previously dated were always pawing at me, clinging to me stubbornly, while Clyde had tried to pull back his hand when we'd entered the building. If he was so attracted to me, as he claimed, why would he care about the others? What they thought? Shouldn't he be clingy too, or something? Seeing as he wasn't then...

Maybe by now—or all throughout this—you're wondering how I could do this so easily, how I could kiss and hold another male if I was really straight. The truth was, I didn't really think it was real. Not like I was delusional or anything, it's just that I didn't really see myself as going out with Clyde. Sure, I'd 'asked him out', I made a show of holding him, but that's all it was: a show. I was an actor playing out a charade for a purpose, and besides, I'd done this tons of times already with girls. What else do you call dating someone you don't even like besides a charade?

It seems a bit cruel, and yeah, looking back on it, it was. _I_ was. It was stupid and arrogant of me to think so impudently, to use my best friend like that. Hey, I'm not denying it. But that's not how I thought of it in that moment, and that enabled me to stand up when class ended and stand over my best friend's desk, lacing my fingers through his on the wooden surface calmly,

"Ready for next class?"

Clyde only nodded an affirmative, face afire once more.

The surprised looks of strangers followed us around after classes as I held Clyde by my side but it wasn't like I gave a damn, and once I even made Clyde laugh as we passed Red and Kevin by her locker, both of who gave us incredulous stares. I nodded over to them as I whispered tot he brunet conspiratorially,

"You know she's totally jealous."

Clyde burst out laughing and I saw Red flush as he looked at her. I almost felt sorry for her; there was no way for her to know what we were talking about.

Lunchtime came and led Clyde through the lunch line to get what passed for food before going over to our little table in the courtyard. Craig and Tweek joined us a minute later, right when I had persuaded Clyde to take a bite of the food I offered him on my fork.

"_Hrrghh!_" Clyde started to choke as he saw them approach, violently coughing and spitting out half-chewed bits of food. They had both clearly seen what we had been doing, but I rolled my eyes and pounded on Clyde on the back dutifully, half-smiling as Tweek started shrieking, almost dropping the thermos he held in his hands as he rushed to Clyde's side, shaking him fitfully.

"_Ngh, breathe, Clyde, BREATHE!_"

I was about to tell him that Clyde was going to be fine and they were all overreacting but a touch to my shoulder made me turn around. Craig was there—I hadn't even seen him come around the side, damn—looking down at me with his blank expression. But I could clearly see the determination in his blue eyes. He nodded off toward the emptier side of the courtyard, and I stood up.

"Clyde, I'll be back in a second."

I don't really think he heard me, seeing as he was now red-faced, still sputtering, although now for a different reason as Tweek frantically punched him in the stomach. I think it was meant to expel whatever was lodged in his throat, but all it did was make Clyde look like he was going to throw up. Hopefully things wouldn't get too bad in the minutes me and Craig were gone.

We left the table as we headed off in the direct Craig had gestured to, and when we were sufficiently out of hearing to anyone who might have been around he sat on the nearest table top, leaning back as he completely ignored the bench. I had barely sat down on the actual seat when he started talking.

"So when did you start dating Clyde?"

I didn't answer for a second, busy smoothing down my jacket. Craig was a hard person to have a discussion with, and right now he had the upper hand: he was completely expressionless. He'd make a killer poker player. "You're not getting homophobic on me, are you?"

For some reason, this made him laugh. Short and dry, gone as soon as it started. I looked at him in askance, raising a brow. "You're gay?"

"You're_ not_." He said pointedly, a statement. I decided to ignore that he'd never actually answered the question.

"So?"

Craig rolled his eyes. "Why're you doing this?"

I guessed it wouldn't really hurt to tell him the actual details, seeing as he wasn't one of the people I thought would be as stupid as the rest of the school's population. "Clyde confessed to me two days ago. And today, I made him a bet. A deal."

The raven flinched at the last word, and I was shocked to see something I never thought I would see in Craig's eyes. Pure, horrible pain. But I didn't get much of a chance to think about it as he said flatly,

"Cut it off. You don't want to do this."

I was a bit angry, actually. Not really at him, but just because I've always had a problem with people bossing me around. I know, another flaw. I've been uncovering them all lately, it seems. "You don't even know what's really going on."

His tone was wry, his expression slightly...self-loathing?

"I know a little something about deals, Token. The best thing you can do is just tell Clyde you don't actually like him." He stared off toward where Tweek was apologizing to Clyde, who looked a little huffy right now. "Spare him the heartbreak."

* * *

**A/N: **Dum dum dum duuuuuuuuuuum! Oh maaaai does this ring some bells? What evah could Craiggers mean by he knows deaaals? One of you out there must be able to line up the dots...xDDD Anyway, anyone who's reviewed the Lent AN before I doubt will be able to review this...but if you're really dedicated you could just hop over to my profile and send me a PM!*hinthinthint* xDD

Thanks to everyone who's still waiting for this, and thank you my pandaria for helping me so much lately! Everyone, go read Cynical B. Itch's stories. Like, now. they shall make you weep for PURE SHEER AWESOMENESSSSSSSSS.


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